The four men standing up took the oath, and thanked Roland for his mercy, hurrying away at a sign from him to their bread and wine.

“Send hither,” cried Roland after them, “two of the men who have already refreshed themselves, each with a loaf of bread and a full flagon of wine.  And now, captain, release Kurzbold and Gensbein.”

When these two stood up and stretched themselves, the bearers of bread and wine presented them with this refreshment, and after they had partaken of it, Greusel gave them each a bag of gold, which they tied to their belts without a word, while Greusel and Ebearhard waited to escort them to land.

“We want our swords,” said Kurzbold sullenly.

Ebearhard looked at his chief, but he shook his head.

“They have disgraced their swords,” he said, “which now by right belong to the Margrave Hermann von Katznellenbogenstahleck.  Put them ashore, lieutenant.”

It was broad daylight, and the men had all come up from the cabin, standing in a silent group at the stern.  Kurzbold, on the bank, foaming at the mouth with fury, shook his fist at them, roaring: 

“Cowards!  Pigs!  Dolts!  Asses!  Poltroons!”

The men made no reply, but Ebearhard’s hearty laugh rang through the forest.

“You have given us your titles, Kurzbold,” he cried.  “Send us your address whenever you get one!”

“Captain,” said Roland, “cast off.  Cross to this side of that island, and tie up there for the day.  Set a man on watch, relieving the sentinel every two hours.  We have spent an exciting night, and will sleep till evening.”

“Your honor, may I first stow away these bales, and dispose of the battle-axes, spears, and broadswords, so to clear the deck?”

“You may do that, captain, at sunset.  As for the bales, they make a very comfortable couch upon which I intend to rest.”

XIV

THE PRISONER OF EHRENFELS

There is inspiration in the sight of armed men marching steadily together; men well disciplined, keeping step to the measured clank of their armor.  Like a great serpent the soldiers of Cologne issued from the forest, coming down two and two, for the path was narrow.  They would march four abreast when they reached the river road, and the evolutions which accomplished this doubling of the columns, without changing step or causing confusion, called forth praise from the two southern Archbishops.

A beautiful tableau of amity and brotherly love was presented to the troops as they looked up at the three Archbishops standing together on the balcony in relief against the gray walls of the Castle.  The officers, who were on horseback, raised their swords sky-pointing from their helmets, for they recognized their overlord and his two notable confreres.  With the motion of one man the three Archbishops acknowledged the salute.  The troops cheered and cheered as the anaconda made its sinuous way down the mountain-side, and company after company came abreast the Castle.  The Archbishops stood there until the last man disappeared down the river road on his way to Coblentz.